


Welcome to America

by Im_A_Terrible_Person



Series: Plushie [2]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bottom Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Cock Warming, Degradation, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Facial Hair, Facial Shaving, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Ghost Sex, Hair Brushing, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mutton Chops, Mutual Pining, Ouch, Plushophilia, Praise Kink, Quarantine, Shaving, Smut, Sub Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Subspace, There's A Tag For That, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Wilbur Soot, Voice Kink, Voodoo Plush, Voodoo doll, Winter, dom wilbur soot, mentioned - Freeform, voodoo sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Terrible_Person/pseuds/Im_A_Terrible_Person
Summary: After the events of Plushie, Wilbur finally visits Schlatt.You can read this as a standalone work, though!
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Series: Plushie [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195808
Comments: 11
Kudos: 223





	Welcome to America

**Author's Note:**

> For @raviolikiss <3
> 
> Please tell me if you want me to change anything!!

Wilbur was nervous. Excited, but his hands were sweaty and he could hear his heartbeat. After months, so many months, of longing phone calls and promises that they’ll meet up, he’d finally done it. He’d bought a ticket, gone through the absolutely ridiculous process to be let into America, gotten a flight all the way to Texas. He hadn’t been in America in over a year. The last time he’d been here, he hadn’t been dating Schlatt, had been trying to stave off his feelings. It hadn’t worked, Wilbur wished he had just given in. That trip would’ve been so much more fun if he’d just told Schlatt how he felt.

Instead, he’d returned to Britain, feelings stronger than ever, to pine. Wilbur’d called him, completely drunk, at 3:00 am. Had confessed, though he could barely remember what he’d said. He was sure it was rambling and overdramatic, full of wordy, barely coherent metaphors for this grandiose thing he called love. Schlatt had apparently found it compelling, though, calling him back later that day.

Wilbur remembered how nervous he’d been, completely blindsided when Schlatt had told him he’d wanted him too. He’d been so happy, high off those wonderful love chemicals, that he hadn’t been able to sleep that night. He’s infatuated with Schlatt, even now, months after the fact. It wasn’t as intense as all-consuming, more of a pleasant constant in his life.

He stood with his bags at the airport, waiting for the Uber he’d called to take him to Schlatt’s. Schlatt didn’t have his care yet, and Wilbur didn’t want to have to deal with the social obligations of people knowing he was here. It was cold out, which was odd, but Wilbur’s not really bothered by it. His breath was visible, curling around him like smoke.

A car pulled up, some shiny white SUV that blended in with the snow falling from the sky. The man driving had a mask on. He looked older, late forties at least. He had on a plain red mask, actually put on correctly. The number of people he’d seen with their masks pulled under their noses was astronomical.

“Wilbur?” His voice was muffled, a little scratchy.

“Yeah.” He put his baggage in the trunk, sitting behind the man and to the left, so he could see him without breathing down his neck. The man doesn’t make conversation, just turning on the radio. It’s not terribly loud, playing some crooning country ballad. It’s not his type of music, but it’s not bad.

The man pulls out of the airport. Wilbur’s a little skeeved out, not used to everything being mirrored like this. He looks out the window, aimlessly staring at the scenery as it flies by. It’s all empty rolling fields, buried under several inches of snow. It’s so white that it hurts his eyes, so used to the darkness of being inside. It’s pretty enough, but it looks so cold, so inhospitable. He almost feels bad for Schlatt, who moved here with the expectation of warm sunny days, only to plunge into a horrific snowstorm that destroyed his plans and almost completely shut the entire state down.

His thoughts wandered back to Schlatt, as they so often did nowadays. God, he was excited. To be the one allowed to touch Schlatt, to hug and kiss and fuck him without the plushie as their only physical connection. The thought makes Wilbur blush, all too aware of the fact that he wasn’t alone. He forces himself to stop thinking about that, turning his thoughts to finally being able to cuddle Schlatt, to spend time with him in person.

Wilbur can’t wait to cuddle him, to talk to him without the buffer of their screens. He can only imagine how comfortable Schlatt would be in his arms, how he’d smell. How he looked when he slept. Wilbur wants to do the small things with Schlatt. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked forward to the thought of cleaning, but Schlatt somehow makes even that appealing.

God, Wilbur was a simp. He never thought he’d say that, or even think it, unironically. Here he was, though, thinking about how much he loved Schlatt, on the way to his house after weeks of horrific paperwork and nerve-wracking phone calls. Wilbur’s do it again a million times for Schlatt.

The drive to Schlatt’s house simultaneously felt like it took ten years and ten seconds, there too soon but also not fast enough. He’s stood in front of the door, steeling himself to knock, to make this real. Wilbur takes a breath, rapping his knuckles harshly on the polished red wood. There, he’d done it. He stepped back, white-knuckling the handle of his suitcase.

There’s a flurry of footsteps, and then the door swings open. He doesn’t have time to greet Schlatt before he’s hugging Wilbur, squeezing him so tightly. Wilbur drops his bags, hugging him back. He presses his nose into Schlatt’s hair, breathing in the scent of him. He smells like minty shampoo, so and his hair is slightly damp. Aw, he’d showered for him.

There are tears in Wilbur’s eyes as they stand there for a moment, lightly rocking back and forth. God, he’s missed this. He doesn’t remember if he’d hugged Schlatt the last time he saw him, but this feels like he’s coming home. Wilbur pulls back after a moment, suddenly desperate to kiss Schlatt, to taste him. He tugs his mask on, letting it fall onto the porch as he cradles Schlatt’s face.

Schlatt lets him, it’s so soft. So warm. Schlatt tastes like maple syrup, almost sweet enough to make Wilbur cry. He does, tears dripping down both of their faces when he pulls back. Wilbur wipes them off with his sleeve, smiling. He laughs a little, absolutely ecstatic, picks his luggage. Schlatt opens the door for him, picking up one of his bags so they won’t have to make two trips.

Wilbur’s still smiling, a huge dorky grin on his face. This is actually happening. It’s real. Schlatt’s house is still bare, walls still default white, and there are piles of boxes everywhere, not yet unpacked. He’s so excited to see what Schlatt does with it. Will he get a pet? Some art? Books? He knows that wherever Schlatt makes videos would be decorated to be funny, but he wants to see what Schlatt does with the space that only he sees.

He stops smiling as he looks around, taking in minor details. The carpets were white and full of paint shavings. Had Schlatt painted the walls white? Schlatt closes the door behind him. Wilbur looks back at him, setting his bags down out of the way, pressed against the wall. Schlatt does the same.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Wilbur breaks the silence, huffing a little at the end. He wants to kiss Schlatt again. He doesn’t, waiting for Schlatt’s response. Wilbur could, though, if he really wanted to. He could probably grab Schlatt and fuck him against the wall right now, if he wanted to.

“Me neither. I missed you, y’know.” He doesn’t meet Wilbur’s gaze, looking away. Oh, that was cute. Wilbur coos, teasing him. Schlatt walks past him, weakly protesting. Wilbur lets it go, perfectly content to stare at Schlatt’s ass as he leads him deeper into the house.

“Wilbur?” Schlatt laughs. Wilbur’s face reddens, embarrassed to have gotten caught. He knows Schlatt wasn’t mad (He liked that Wilbur thought he looked good, had told him so. Wilbur loved telling him how pretty he was.) But he still felt ashamed.

Schlatt waves off his halfhearted apology. They speak little for the rest of the night. Schlatt helps Wilbur stay up until at least 8:00 before he gives in and lets Wilbur cuddle him. Schlatt’s blankets are a little thin, but they’re pressed so close together that they can’t even feel it.

Wilbur falls asleep first, pinning Schlatt in place. Schlatt scrolls through Twitter until he feels tired enough to fall asleep as well. It’s around 11:00, and he shifts, rolling over a little in Wilbur’s arms so he can throw an arm over his waist. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

-

Wilbur woke up first, around 9:00. He yawns, stretching slightly, before remembering where he is. Wil looks down at Schlatt, who had his face smushed into his chest. He’s drooling slightly, snoring quietly. Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, relishing in its silkiness. He waits for Schlatt to wake up, being so warm and comfortable. He basks in the moment's softness, hand stroking through his hair.

Schlatt wakes up about twenty minutes later. He just sort of looks up. His eyes are droopy with sleep, and he almost immediately buries his face back in Wilbur’s chest. They don’t have to wake up yet. Wilbur lets him. He won’t be able to fall asleep again, but watching Schlatt sleep is oddly entertaining. Every twitch of his face, the flutter of his eyes. Every little hum.

Eventually, though, Wilbur needs to get up to use the bathroom. His heart clenches at the whine Schlatt lets out as he eases him so he’s lying on the bed. He blinks himself awake, reaching for Wilbur. His movements are heavy with the remnants of sleep. Wilbur returns as quick as he can, shushing Schlatt with a soft kiss.

When they get up, they don’t do much. Schlatt orders some food from a local restaurant, laze around all day. Wilbur and Schlatt enjoy each other’s company, finally being able to just... be in each other’s presence. They watch some TV; they do some shopping. They play some games, though it’s awkward as Wilbur doesn’t have a computer.

-

Schlatt is a bit surprised at how well this was going. He’s worried that, upon meeting up with him, Wilbur would decide that they just weren’t compatible. Yes, it’s irrational, but Schlatt couldn’t help but expect the worst. His fears are unfounded, though he’s almost shocked by how much Wilbur wants him. He can’t stop touching Schlatt, hugging him, kissing him. Wilbur pressed kisses against Schlatt’s forehead just so he could tease him about his blush. He just... walks up to him and hugs him whenever he spends too long away from him.

Wilbur had mentioned, a while ago, his old videos. There’s something awkward about talking to someone who’s seen your content, but there was something that stuck with him. Wilbur had commented on how he’d looked without his mutton chops. He couldn’t really see where he was coming from, but Wilbur had said he looked pretty.

Now he’s standing in the bathroom, razor in hand, debating whether to go through with it. It’d grow back, he knows, but it felt symbolic. Whatever, he decides, it’s just hair. He’d have it back in a few weeks, now that he’s already grown it out. He’s careful not willing to risk nicking himself while he shaves.

Schlatt stares at himself in the mirror for a good minute. God, he hasn’t looked like this in months. He turned his face from side to side, checking for anything he might’ve missed. His face looks weird to him, so different without the facial hair. Schlatt doesn’t regret it, he decides, he looks fantastic. Beautiful.

He takes a shower, shaving away the rest of the hair on his body. The water’s cold by the time he finishes. His legs feel so smooth, so sensitive. It’s a new feeling, that’s for sure. He gets dressed, nothing fancy. A nondescript hoodie and sweatpants.

Schlatt pushes down any insecurity he feels, leaving the bathroom. He’s done it, there’s no going back now. He wanders around, trying to find Wilbur. Wilbur’s in the living room, doing something on his laptop. Schlatt suddenly wants to return to his room.

Wilbur looks up, mouth open as he starts to speak. He falters, mouth closing, as he takes in Schlatt’s unfamiliar look. Schlatt squirms under his gaze, embarrassed. Jesus Christ, what had he been thinking?

-

It shocked Wilbur. Schlatt’s mutton chops were a staple of him, one of the first things that come to mind when Wilbur thinks about him. Schlatt and shaved them, just for him. He looks so pretty, but so scared. Like he’s afraid that Wilbur wouldn’t like it. The thought softens Wilbur’s expression. He beckons Schlatt over, leaning back and closing his laptop, placing it down on the couch next to him.

Schlatt takes the hint, swinging a leg over him and settling into his lap. He doesn’t try playing coy. Wilbur’s heart leaps. Oh. This was happening. This was really happening. Schlatt doesn’t look him in the eyes, instead leaning back slightly, moving his weight more into Wilbur. Wilbur groans at the friction, draping his arms around Schlatt loosely.

He kisses Schlatt slowly. It feels so different without the mutton chops, so smooth. There’s no urgency to it, just lazy passion and heat. Schlatt lets him control it, and Wilbur brings his arms up to wrap around Schlatt’s waist. For a while, they just make out staying like that. Eventually, though, Wilbur decides it’s time to take it somewhere.

Wilbur lets his hands drop lower, grabbing at Schlatt’s ass and thighs with a groan. Schlatt moaned into his mouth, leaning heavily on him. He slips a hand into Schlatt’s pants, surprised to be met with soft, smooth-shaven skin. He tries to pull back and ask, but Schlatt doesn’t let him, chasing him with a needy whimper.

“Schlatt.” He mumbles into Schlatt’s mouth. Schlatt pulls back reluctantly, a frown already forming on his face.

“Did you shave? For me?” He trails a hand over Schlatt’s stomach, admiring the sensation. Schlatt nods wordlessly, watching him. He feels so soft, Wilbur can’t stop touching him. His hands wander, exploring the smooth skin. Schlatt ground his hips down into Wil’s, moaning desperately.

“You’re so pretty.” He is. His face is bright red, and he loses any form of intimidation without the chops. Now he just looks soft and submissive, so good for Wilbur. He pushes Schlatt off, grabbing his hand so he would follow him to their bedroom. It’s not theirs, not yet, not really, but the thought makes Wilbur happy.

Schlatt doesn’t protest, though he stumbles a bit, Wilbur’s pace fast in face of his eagerness. He doesn’t pause, though, until he’s pushing Schlatt down onto the bed. He goes easily. Wilbur leaves for a second to grab a chair and one of his bags. He comes back, takes a few things out that he really wants to try on Schlatt.

-

He places the Schlatt plush down on the chair, unassumingly pointed at Schlatt. Double checking that he has everything he’ll need, he turns to Schlatt. He’s so excited to finally to see this in person. He’s heard it, heard of it, but Schlatt’s never turned his camera on to let Wilbur see the effects.

“Strip.” He orders. Schlatt does, grunting with effort as he tries to get his hoodie over his head. Wilbur admires every stretch of pale skin he exposes, leaving Schlatt to struggle on his own. He gets it, eventually, and Wilbur grabs the clothes, places them down on top of a box. They’re still pretty clean, and they look comfy enough for Schlatt to wear once they’re done here.

Wilbur arranges Schlatt in so he’s lying on his back, head cushioned in soft pillows. He puts another one under his head, so he can see Wilbur moving around him. He debates tying him there, but he knows Schlatt won’t move unless he tells him to.

Schlatt sighs, relaxing into the soft sheets of his bed. He feels comfortable. Schlatt hasn’t quite slipped into headspace, not yet, but his brain already feels quiet and warm. He just needs to focus on Wilbur, who’s leaving the room again. It feels like he’s alone forever, but it was probably only a few minutes until he returns.

“Good boy, Schlatt.” A hand pets him, gently, before all contact leaves. He whines, liking the sensation. Wilbur hushes him, hand running down over his chest, his stomach, his legs. Schlatt’s so sensitive that even that makes him moan, high and breathy. Wilbur nudges his legs apart, settling on the bed and crawling between them. He kisses Schlatt, comforting him, reassuring him that this was okay, Wilbur was here.

The pop of Wilbur opening the lube is so loud in the soft atmosphere. He pulls back so he can see what he’s doing, drizzling lube over his fingers. Schlatt closes his eyes, forcing himself to relax as Wilbur pushes one inside. It doesn’t quite feel good, but Schlatt sighs, shifting his hips down into Wilbur’s hand.

Wilbur presses another one in, spreading them and wriggling him against Schlatt’s inner walls so he’d relax. Schlatt moans, enjoying the light burn as Wilbur stretches him open. He rolls his hips down, more intent behind it this time. Wilbur takes the hint, pressing a third inside. Schlatt barely gets to enjoy it before he pulls out.

Schlatt twitches, whines. He felt so empty, and he hated feeling empty. Wilbur doesn’t waste any time, only just barely pulling his pants down enough to slick himself up sloppily before eagerly pressing forward. He’s wanted to do this for so long, he doesn’t want to wait.

There were tears in Schlatt’s eyes. God, it felt so good. So, so good. Wilburs pressed against him, hands roving over his body as he soothes him. The words don’t quite reach him, his mind going all fuzzy, but he likes the sound of Wilbur’s voice. It soothes him, makes him feel protected, loved.

Wilbur pulls out, once he knows Schlatt is ready, thrusts back in hard. He groans, loving the feeling of Schlatt’s hole around him. He’s so tight, wet with lube, and he’s doing so good for him. His eyes are cloudy, and tears are dripping down his face. He knows Schlatt’s slipping deep. He adjusts his grip on Schlatt, pulling one smooth leg up and over his shoulder, the other wrapping around his waist. Wilbur can go deeper, like this, and the angle is perfect.

Schlatt’s cries are so pretty. He can’t muffle his noises like this, barely has control over his limbs. He’s perfect, Wilbur loves this. It’s so much better than he imagined. He thrusts in harder, faster, loving the friction. It makes Schlatt louder, his hands weakly grabbing at the sheets, eyes sliding closed. Wilbur lets him, pressing closer so he can kiss him. Schlatt whines, this position almost bending him in half.

Wilbur doesn’t touch his cock, leaving him desperate for contact. He cries a little, but he doesn’t tell Wilbur to stop. He takes it so well, so pretty. In fact, he tries to meet Wilbur’s thrusts, loving the feeling of being fucked, of being so good for Wilbur.

Fuck, so good for him. Schlatt spasms around him, clenching and twitching. It feels so good on his cock, makes him pull back, adjusting so he has more leverage to pound into Schlatt better. God, he feels so good, so tight for Wilbur.

He tells Schlatt so, breathless, about how good he is for him. Wilbur loves this, loves Schlatt, loves the way he feels. It’s wonderful, he thinks, as he kisses Schlatt again. He doesn’t last, already having a plan for that. He cums, deep inside Schlatt, who whines in confusion as Wilbur pulls out. Schlatt babbles out pleas, he’s so empty, please fill him again, don’t leave, please.

Wilbur kisses his forehead, gets up. Schlatt whimpered but didn’t move. So obedient.

“So good for me.” Wilbur coos, picking up the Schlatt plush and the laptop, brings them over to the bed, sitting down next to him. He doesn’t make Schlatt wait, sliding the plush down over his cock. He hisses, the overstimulation making his eyes water, but he pushes through it. It’s worth it.

When he looks over at Schlatt. His hole is gaping, stretched so wide around his cock. He’s still crying, body jerking every so often. His legs are still splayed wide and, fuck. There’s a dome in his stomach, and Will’s never seen this in person before. It’s so fucking hot. He gets why this is so overwhelming for Schlatt, now. That had to feel enormous.

Wilbur forces himself to look away, opening up the laptop and signing in. He opens up his email, clicking through it. It takes all of his self-control to act like he’s ignoring Schlatt. Wilbur looks over at him subtly, enjoying the dazed look in his eyes as he cockwarmed Wilbur, mouth slack as he panted. He’s still hard, cock weeping and twitching as he sinks. He types, hands shaking.

-

Schlatt is so comfortable. The sounds of Wilbur typing, clicking through whatever, were so soothing. He just sits there, letting the feeling of being so useful. Schlatt doesn’t need to think, Wilbur will take care of him. He doesn’t have to focus on anything, doesn’t have to try. Wilbur’s happy with him as long as Schlatt sits there, pinned so wide, hole fluttering and spasming.

He isn’t sure how long they sit there, how long Wilbur lets him drift away. Schlatt’s so far under, he can’t even tell if his eyes are open, can’t feel anything except Wilbur’s cock, filling him up so much. He’s just a cocksleeve, so good for Wilbur. Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur.

He can’t react when Wilbur fucks into him again, can’t tell if he’s making noises. The friction feels so intense after sitting there for so long, the drag of Wilbur’s cock inside him is heavenly. He cums, he thinks, but he really couldn’t tell.

Wilbur comes again, gently rocking into him for a little while after before he pulls out, letting the cum drip out of him. He’s empty, alone, and he doesn’t like that. Schlatt can’t move, can’t beg for Wilbur to come back. There’s a weight on his chest, keeping him down.

There’s a hand in his hair, petting him. Relief floods through him. Wilbur is here. Wilbur will take care of him. He’s a good boy. He’s loved. There’s something wet on him, maybe. Schlatt’s jostled, moved a little.

The hand keeps petting through his hair, scratching gently against his scalp. He’s a good boy, such a good boy, a good boy for Wilbur, he’s been so good tonight, it’s okay. It muffles his thoughts, head completely empty.

-

Wilbur’s a little impressed. Schlatt’s barely there, eyes unseeing. He’d almost be worried, but he can see Schlatt’s chest rising and falling. He’s cleaned Schlatt up, stripped and remade the bed, all without Schlatt being aware. Wilbur’s dressed him back up in his sweatpants, had Schlatt’s head resting in his lap as he softly pets his hair.

He whispers soft praise to him, Schlatt deserves it, letting himself sink so far. Wilbur has some water on the side table, he won’t try to get Schlatt to drink until he resurfaces a little. Wilbur’s not sure if he’s there enough to drink without choking.

After a bit, Schlatt whimpers. Just a small sound, but it means so much.

“Schlatt? Can you hear me?” Wilbur keeps his voice soft, hand still moving. Schlatt makes another noise, almost inaudible. Wilbur takes that as confirmation, grabbing the bottle. It’s a little warm. He unscrews the cap, putting it on the bedspread.

“Can you drink for me?” Wilbur coos, waiting for another noise until he carefully pours some water into Schlatt’s mouth. He does it slowly, not wanting to choke him. Schlatt swallows when he orders him to. Wilbur repeats it until he thinks Schlatt is satisfied. Then he pulls him up a little, so his back is resting against Wilbur’s chest. Wilbur wraps his arms around him, dipping down to press a sweet kiss against the back of Schlatt’s neck.

Wilbur holds Schlatt like that for a while until his back aches. He carefully slides them down, so they’re lying on the bed. Wilbur pulls the covers over both of them, curling himself over Schlatt. He sighs, satisfied, as he closes his eyes and waits for sleep.

-

The next morning, Schlatt is almost nonverbal. He gets up and walks around, but he’s still soft and sleepy. It’s adorable, watching him cling to Wilbur, and it makes Wilbur so happy to be the one to see this side of Schlatt.

They don’t really do a lot that day, Wilbur just watches a few shows on Netflix, Schlatt cuddled into his chest. He’s so cute, Wilbur thinks, being so good for him. It’s so much better than being terrified, halfway around the world, anxiously waiting for any word from Schlatt.

He’s perfectly content when he finally falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> It took me five hours to write this :D


End file.
